


Lapse of Control

by ThereisNoTragedyinThat



Series: 30 Days of Whump-Cherik Edition [11]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: 30 Day Whump Prompt Challenge, Boys In Love, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Past Child Abuse, Trauma, X-Men: First Class (2011)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 00:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19897213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereisNoTragedyinThat/pseuds/ThereisNoTragedyinThat
Summary: Charles has a nightmare and a lapse of control around Erik. Guilt and comfort.Day 11: Hair-Pulling





	Lapse of Control

**Author's Note:**

> As always, link in the first story will bring you to the prompt list :)
> 
> Day 11: Hair-Pulling

_“Charles!”_

_The sound of that voice, snapping his name only made him curl further into himself, fear making his heart pound in his chest. Already his eyes were stinging, nails digging deep into his palms as he desperately tried to focus, to take control of the threat._

_The footsteps stumbled closer, alcohol making him uncoordinated and by all accounts it should be easy to take hold of that lax mind, but it was like a slippery eel in his grasp, escaping every attempt he made._

_Biting his lip, Charles tried again and nearly cried out at the pure, unadulterated rage emanating from the fog. It was directed at him and just like always Charles didn’t know why, wanted to scream and shout for his mother and beg answers. It wouldn’t matter though, and he knew it._

_His mother was too catatonic to respond when Charles was screeching in pain let alone begging for help from the inevitable agony to be dealt at the hands of his stepfather. Charles gave up, knowing there as no way he’d get a hold of him if he hadn’t done it yet and was simply grateful that Raven wasn’t here._

_She’d chosen to stay with a friend, a new, kind girl that came to her class. Charles was glad, it was getting harder and harder to hide the bruises and cuts. He wasn’t stupid, knew she suspected, but he also knew she wouldn’t say anything, not unless he told her, thankfully._

_Charles frowned. There were no footsteps now, no heavy breathing, no yelling, and no…he tensed, latching onto unsteady brainwaves a moment too late. A hand reached under the table, lightning quick and grabbed a handful of Charles’s hair, yanking him out._

_He went with a cry, flinging his body after those pulling, scratching fingers in an attempt to lessen the pressure. Charles was dragged out fully and another cry tore from his throat when he was pulled up for one searing, painfilled moment, before being dropped unceremoniously onto the floor, where his knees met hardwood with a dull thump._

_The fear was paralyzing and so was the shame. He huddled there, listening to the angry breathing of his stepfather and thought about all the powers at his disposal and how, only a month earlier he’d stopped the man from similarly attacking Raven with one angry thought._

_Now he was useless and with a carefully placed kicked to the ribs, his stepfather made sure he knew it._

Charles gasped awake with phantom pain reverberating throughout his stomach. His eyes took in the dark room of yet another seedy motel but before it could fully compute, he realized there was a form, in the bed next to him, currently looming up and over him.

Charles acted on instinct, his ability coming to him with the agility and power of a raging river, freezing the form in place. He breathed deeply, felt for the mind in front of him only to be met with panic and worry and fear. Charles swore his heart stopped as he finally registered that it was Erik.

Just like that, Charles was releasing him and flinging himself out of the bed, ignoring the feeling of cold air on his sweaty skin and trying to stutter out an apology. Erik, the moment he’d been released had sat back, staring at him a little wide-eyed.

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry. You startled me and its just a defense mechanism, but I shouldn’t have-”

“Charles-”

“I’m going,” the words slipped out automatically, Charles needing to put space between him and this mistake, needing to breathe without the shadows and the darkness and the smell of alcohol still winding through his memories.

Before he could even reach for clothing, the lights flickered on around them and Charles stared at Erik who was frowning at him, “you were projecting.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry and stop picking up your clothes.”

“I just need-”

Cool metal wrapped around his wrist gently and Charles looked down to find his watch, which had previously been sitting on the side table, resting there. Glancing at Erik, he found the man watching him intently and with a quick flick of his finger, Charles felt himself being pulled lightly toward the bed.

Instinct had him wanting to run. He was dangerous, he wanted to keep Erik safe. Yet, at the same time, the moment long, warm fingers encircled his arm and pulled him bodily into his embrace, Charles felt himself go limp. It was the easiest thing in the world to bury his face in Erik’s shoulder and to keep his telepathy tightly coiled inside, fear keeping it chained.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

An exasperated sigh, “I told you to stop apologizing.”

Charles shook his head, “it was wrong, I shouldn’t have-”

“It was mistake. Honestly Charles, I’m kind of glad, much less embarrassing when I mess up.”

The words were said lightly but Charles recognized the tone of distraction. Erik was trying to comfort him by taking his mind somewhere else, well trying to. Quite suddenly, Charles felt like he wanted to cry. Erik wasn’t demanding answers about why he did it, didn’t ask about the nightmare and wasn’t even drawing attention to the lapse of panic that had seized him.

But of course, he wouldn’t.

Erik knew all about the monsters hiding in the subconscious and memories looking to tear you to pieces.

Charles bit his lip to keep words from streaming out, sentiments that he no doubt didn’t want to hear. Instead, he tightened his fingers in Erik’s shirt and didn’t protest being held, even as minutes turned into hours and the darkness began to lighten with the approaching sun. Throughout it all, Erik didn’t move, didn’t complain, and tried to keep him talking about the most mundane things.

How strange it was, Charles reflected, not to be feared.


End file.
